The Scars Of Defeat
by littlemissmicronation
Summary: All she wanted to do was win, and he, in all his brutal honesty, didn't really care.
1. A Maze

**Hey! I recently read The Maze Runner, and I thought to myself, "Hey, this would make for a great story!" So, presenting, The Scars Of Defeat! Also, anything bolded (other than the author's note) is actually a line that belongs to James Dashner (if not slightly modified). I don't own anything but the plot and Mabella! **

_**She began her new life standing up, surrounded by cold darkness and stale, dusty air. **__She felt her way through the pitch black; her knuckles traced something cool-it was a thick stone wall that she thought look ancient, yet it wasn't weathered in the slightest. She could see a little more now. Moonlight, she presumed. The wall was a boring grey, and if that affected her, it only dampened her mood. _

_ Then, the gravity of her situation hit her: Where was she? Why was she alone in this chilly, damp place? _

_'Okay, think. . . What's the last thing you remember?' She searched her brain for something, something that might give her a little more insight as to where she was, why she was there, and. . . who she was. . . _

_ "Oh god, I can't even remember my own name!" She squealed in frustration and threw herself against the wall. Something cold rattled around her neck. She moved her fingers to the fine silver chain that hung around her neck. Unclasping it as to get a better look, she noticed it was a locket. The topaz square glimmered, catching what little light there was in such a dull and dark place. She rubbed her finger in circles against the gemstone, then realized it could open. Inside was a picture of a most handsome boy, he looked only sixteen-he had dirty blonde hair and a brilliantly white, winning smile, which reached his sparkling hazel eyes. He had flashed a peace sign at the camera when the picture had been taken. _

_ 'A camera?' She thought to herself. She knew what it was and what it did, but she could not remember whether she had one or whether she liked to use it, or where she got it from or who she took pictures of if she did. It was all so confusing and frustrating, she wanted to just pull her hair out. Deciding to make herself useful, she rolled up the sleeves of her cream flannel shirt, undid a button or two, and adjust the dark brown satchel she had woken up with. She dared not look into it, afraid something might happen if she did._

_ She set off in what appeared to be a promising direction, and she walked and walked until daylight pierced through the darkness of what she had now labelled a maze, for a maze it was; she would walk one way and there was a dead end, turn around and a new passage had appeared. She was tired and hungry and upset_ _she still couldn't remember her name. _

_ Something swept by her; its silver glinted in the sunlight. She became curious and followed it. She didn't have anywhere else to go, and she thought, 'Why not?' Not a good idea. _

_ She crept carefully behind it, disguised in a cloak of shadows. She couldn't risk running into something that wasn't human. Then came a sudden memory, clear as day: _

Flashback

A little girl sat on a small pink bed in an exquisitely decorated room. The furnishings were finely made; a red plush chair stood in the corner of the room, next to a mahogany bookcase that housed an extensive collection of books and papers and, strangely enough, feathers. She assumed this girl collected them.

The little girl had long, raven black curls and piercing eyes which glinted in the pale glow of the lamp. She appeared to be scared. "Papa," she whimpered. A man entered the room. He and the girl, who must've been his daughter shared their blue eyes, but he had chestnut brown curls atop his head and a goatee at that. He smiled warmly. "You called, _mi princesa __**[1]**_?"

"Papa! Papa! Monsters!" She pointed under her bed rapidly.

"Monsters, _mi princesa_?" He laughed, a beautiful sound that melted her heart.

"_Si __**[2]**__, si, _papa! _Deshazte de ellos __**[3]**__!" _

"_No te preocupes, hermoso. Papá te protegerá __**[4]**_."

"_Promesa __**[5]**_?"

"_Prometo __**[6]**_."

End Flashback

_She nearly stopped dead in her tracks to ponder the memory, but whatever it was was slipping away. It whizzed through the corridors(?) and she had no choice but to follow. She watched as the tiny piece of metal flew up and landed on the wall near a prospering patch of ivy. Taking a chance, she made a loop and pulled herself up. She hoisted herself up from vine to vine, until she reached up towards the bug. She held her breath as it scanned her with its coppery coloured eyes. Then, she spotted it: four letters painted in a bold red-_

_W. C. K. D _

__-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_ _LINE BREAK ******

_After that heart-racing experience, she started coughing uncontrollably. 'Just a cold, perhaps?' She assumed, reasonably. Another memory tugged at the back of her mind, but she couldn't reach it._

_So, she set off in a different direction. Though it was freezing out, she felt her hands sweating. As she looked to her right, she saw something that shocked her. A rusty plaque that read. . ._

**World In Catastrophe: Killzone Experiment Department**

_She shouldn't worry about it, she thought. She slumped down against the wall, ivy itching her tender skin, and fell into a peaceful slumber. The last thing she saw before she drifted unconscious was a pair of smiling hazel eyes. _

**I used Google Translate, so blame them if its wrong!**

[1]=My princess

[2]=Yes

[3]=Get rid of them!

[4]=Do not worry, beautiful. Daddy will protect you.

[5]=Promise?

[6]=I promise.


	2. Strange New Places

**Just letting you guys know, I'm describing the characters like the actors who played them. That's bad, I know, but I kinda like how the actors look better than the characters' descriptions. Maybe because I saw the movie first?**

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_E. . . Ella. . . Bella. . . Mabella. . . _

_"Mabella!" She yelled as soon as her eyes opened, forcing her arms to move. The light-haired boy who had been snoozing on the cot next to her woke with a start. _

_"Really?" He grunted to himself. Mabella noticed a thick bandage wrapped around his right arm. It was stained with blood. "Are you okay?" She asked quietly, not wanting to anger him any further. He didn't smile, though she could've sworn she saw the corner of his lips curve. "This?" He asked gruffly, peering down at his makeshift cast. "S'okay. Name's Gally. You?" _

_"Mabella," she stated proudly, happy to finally be able to use her newly found name. Gally looked up, and she noticed he had the most interesting eyebrows. She looked around the bare shack and grinned-it looked a whole lot better than that maze. "What is this place?"_

_"Welcome to the Glade. S'ppose you'll start rattling off your questions now, Greenie."_

_". . . Greenie?"_

_"You're new, didn't come up like the rest of us, but suppose you'll do, even as a girl."_

_"Okay, okay." She lay her head against the pillow. Another boy, about sixteen or seventeen came in-wavy hair, happy eyes-to check on Gally. They discussed something serious, and she caught snippets like: "Slim it, Clint," or "Gally, we can't be shucking stupid about this!" She didn't understand these terms, but they intrigued her. Finally, the smiling boy turned to her. "Ah, you're up. Alby 'n Newt would want to see you. Name?" _

_"Mabella," Gally snapped before she had a chance to speak. "Gally, don't stick your head into things that don't concern you," Clint scorned, scribbling something down on a notepad. Gally sunk bitterly into his cot, and Mabella fell into a dreamless slumber of her own._

"_No te preocupes, hermoso. Papá te protegerá_."

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_As it hit six o'clock in the afternoon, Mabella woke. She had slept peacefully, and was revving to go. She looked around for Gally, who wasn't anywhere in her sight. She spotted a piece of paper on her side, addressed to her, which read,_

_TO MABELLA. _  
_Didn't want to wake you up, love, you looked peaceful, so I decided to write you a note instead. I'm being brutally honest here: We haven't had a bloody girl in this shucking glade, not once. We're not sure how to treat ya. But we can call a bloody Gathering tomorrow. It's your first shucking day here, and you deserve the Tour just like any other Greenie. When you wake up, find Chuck. Fat little fella, curly-haired, short 'n stubby. Should be helpful. He'll show ya to dinner. If ya can't find him, talk to Clint. He's a friendly fella, he'll show ya. Find me after you've eaten, love. Welcome to the Glade.  
__NEWT, SECOND-IN-COMMAND._

_Mabella noticed certain things about the way he wrote, like how he curved his t's and curled his h's. 'Cute,' she giggled to herself, and she felt something in her stomach, something she couldn't quite place her finger on. . ._

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_Fortunately, Mabella was able to find Chuck. He was a sweet, innocent boy about the age of twelve, a little round, rosy-cheeked. He was very sympathetic, and Mabella smiled at this little boy, wondering why he was stuck in such an unhappy place. He told her all about the Glade: there was the Homestead, where she woke up in, the bloodhouse, which he refused to talk about, the Deadheads, which didn't sound so inviting, and more. She was happy Newt told her to find Chuck. _

_Following her tour, they arrived "fashionably" (as Chuck put it) late to dinner, which a frowning man named Alby wasn't too happy about. The stern man welcomed Mabella, and allowed her to sit where she wanted. She decided to sit between Chuck and a blonde-haired boy named Scott, who was quite __silly. Mabella couldn't hold her giggles while attempting to eat her salad.  
It was a plain salad, filled with leaves, tomatoes, and mozzarella cheese. Mabella thought it was the best thing she'd eaten in a long time. _

_"So," Scott burped. "What do you think you'll be Keeper of?"_

_"What?" Mabella asked, puzzled yet interested. "Well," Chuck said, sounding proud. "He's asking what job you think you'll get. There's the Slicers, who chop up animals-I'm sure Alby'll spare you that one," he added after seeing the look on her face. _

_"Then," Scott continued. "There's the Sloppers, the Baggers, the Track-Hoes, the Med-Jacks, the Cooks, which is basically just Frypan, and of course, the best of the best, the Runners."_

_"Runners?" Mabella asked eagerly, leaning forward. _

_"Why does this little girlie shuck want to know about the Runners?" A husky voice laughed from above; she could immediately tell he was smirking. She looked up to see a spiky haired boy flexing his impressive muscles. _


End file.
